Second Chances
by PretendFan
Summary: The world is in danger again and it is up to Bethany and her daughter to save it, with a little help from some friends. Can the world be saved, again? (FYI:Don't worry, no slash)


Disclaimers:  As much as I'd like to, I don't own any characters or plots from the film Dogma.  They belong to the wonderful Kevin Smith.  Everything else in this story belongs to me.  I am making no money off this.

Feedback: Constructive criticism welcomed.  Only flames not accepted.

Rating: R (for language and some violence)

Wisconsin April 2009 

The alleyway was bathed in shadows, as was the rest of the city.  The sun had been down for a couple hours and darkness enveloped the horizon.  Only the scattered stars in the sky and the city's streetlamps offered any light.  Therefore, the appearance of three strange figures in the alley went unnoticed.

"Damn, is it good to get out of Hell again," one of the figures said with a chuckle.  

"When was the last time you were out, Azrael?"  The second figure asked softly.

Azrael grinned at his companion.  "A good ten fucking years."

"Since you tried to erase existence?"  

Azrael winced at the mention of his failed effort.  "Uh, yeah.  And, uh, Ariel?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ever fucking mention that again!"

"All right, all right.  So, what's the plan?"

Azrael smirked as he rubbed his hands together.  "First things first.  We locate the Christ bitch and her bastard child, the current Last Scion.  Then we move on from there.  But for now," Azrael wagged a finger in his associate's face for emphasis, "we only think about finding those two."

The conversation was interrupted by motion from the third figure.  This figure was decidedly nonhuman.  It could have been mistaken for a freakishly large Mastiff except for the fact that it was deep red in color and had three heads.  The creature's three heads growled and it strained against the leash Azrael held in his hand.  The leash was made from a golden, unearthly material and was attached to three spiked collars around the creature's necks.

Azrael turned to the creature.  "Easy, Leopold."  Azrael frowned and rubbed his chin contemplatively.  "There's no way we can get around with you looking like this."  He paused a minute then grinned and snapped his fingers.  In place of the massive beast stood a good-looking young man with dark auburn hair dressed in a crimson suit.

"What is it with you and suits?"  Ariel asked as he watched the former beast explore its new form tentatively.

"What do you mean?"  Azrael glanced down at his own white suit.

Ariel shook his head.  "Never mind…"

Azrael shrugged.  "Whatever."  The demon pulled back his sleeve to glance at his wrist, which did not have a watch attached to it.  "We gotta get going.  It's getting late."

Ariel frowned, puzzled.  

Azrael smoothed down his sleeve then grinned at his companion.  "I hope you don't mind walking."      

*****

             Bethany Sloane jolted up in bed.  She gazed around her darkened bedroom.  Seeing nothing, she dropped her head into her hands.  "What a dream!"  Bethany actually couldn't remember anything about the dream except it involved her and her daughter, Mary, and left her with an uncanny feeling.  Telling herself it was nothing, Bethany lay back down, intending to fall back asleep.

            Suddenly, she heard a loud clatter, followed by a muffled, "Shit!"

            Bethany immediately sat up.  She leaned over the side of the bed and picked up her trusty bat.  "Who's there?  Show yourself!"  She stood up as she spoke and waved the bat menacingly.  Only silence answered her.  Feeling a sudden sense of déjà vu, Bethany called out, "Metatron?"

            The room was unexpectedly filled with a blinding light and Bethany dropped the bat to shield her eyes from the glow.  She stumbled backwards, tripped over the sheets, and landed on her butt.  "Hey, turn the fucking light off!"

            "Oh, terribly sorry," spoke a voice and the light went out.

            Bethany rubbed her eyes before opening them.  She stared in shock at the figure standing in the middle of her bedroom.  "Hey, you're not the Metatron!"

            "Certainly not," quipped the voice with a decidedly American accent. 

TBC…

Special Note: Now I know all the Metatron fans will freak out on me, but don't worry.  Everything will be explained in the next chapter. 


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